


Time

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Let's just enjoy them being silly and in love, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wakes up and realizes that, for once, he has the time to simply enjoy Will one morning without distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/post/81761415859/hannibal-au-sleeping-in) on Tumblr. And everyone knows I can't say no to fluff!

Hannibal opened his eyes, slowly, against the light that filtered into the bedroom. He shifted, licked his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching up at Will’s sleeping profile. The man was on his back, barely moving, except for the almost hypnotic rise and fall of his chest. Hannibal shifted his arm, laying almost on his bicep as he reached out, let the tips of his fingers play along Will’s messy curls. The man didn’t stir, and the psychiatrist twirled his soft hair quietly, just watching him.

It wasn’t often Hannibal got to indulge like this. Most nights Will spent in his home were followed by rushed mornings- early alarms so Will could make the drive back to Wolf Trap, to check in on the dogs, and then to the lab, or a class, depending on the day. Most mornings Hannibal barely got to focus his eyes on Will until the man was out of the shower and fighting with those curls, wet and smelling like lavender and sandalwood. Sometimes he couldn’t even manage a kiss until Will was reaching for the coffee Hannibal would inevitably make, and offer to him.

Hannibal inhaled, could smell Will this close- no longer sweet now that the Encephalitis was gone, something more Earthy, more like the leaves after Autumn rain, or grass warmed by the sun. Something _natural_. He smiled more, his other hand reaching out to trace along Will’s arm- the thin fabric of his t-shirt down to warm skin, along the dip of his elbow and under the blanket, over his wrist to find his hand and take it, palms pressed together and fingers lacing.

Will’s eyes moved behind his eyelids, his mouth twitching a little, before he gave a small, sleepy groan and shifted. Hannibal squeezed his hand and felt Will respond, squeezing back, his eyes opening slowly. He turned his head slightly, caught Hannibal staring, and smiled.

“Did I wake you?” Hannibal whispered, still playing with Will’s curls.

“Yeah.” He smiled more, stretching out his legs and pulling his hand away so he could roll onto his side and stare evenly into Hannibal’s burgundy eyes. “S’okay though, I’d rather be awake.” Hannibal chuckled, sank his finger tips deeper into Will’s hair and leaned in, finding his mouth and kissing him softly, could still feel sleep heavy in Will’s mouth by the lazy movements of his lips, the small sound he made that was half sigh, half moan. When Hannibal pulled back, Will didn’t chase him, just smiled and watched, one of his hands creeping under the blanket closer, finding Hannibal’s belly and teasing his fingers down it to the hem of his pants, slipping his fingertips beneath it to hold onto him, as if to keep Hannibal was slipping away.

“Did you dream?” the older man whispered, and Will shook his head.

“My night was black as ink,” he whispered, “Cool and smooth and weightless.” His eyes seemed to wake up then, have a small glint in them, his smile playful, tugging at the corners of his lips but not yet reaching his eyes. Hannibal leaned closer again, for another kiss, and this time when he tried to pull back Will gave chase, kept their mouths together and let his tongue trace Hannibal’s lower lip, before pushing into his mouth. He pulled his fingers free from their hold on Hannibal’s pants and wound his arm up around his shoulders, fitting neatly into Hannibal’s embrace, slipping one leg between his lover’s and further entangle them.

Will rocked against Hannibal, rolled him onto his back as the man laughed, allowing Will to swallow his laughter as he stretched out on top of him, moving his kisses to the corner of his mouth, than along his jawline, both his hands sinking into Hannibal’s hair. He nibbled on his ear and Hannibal ran his hands along his sides, daring to grasp the waistband of his underwear and give it a good tug. Will yelped as Hannibal’s hands roamed over his bottom, squeezing the flesh, and he tugged on his hair playfully.

“You’re terrible,” he laughed, sucking Hannibal’s earlobe into his mouth and shifting his weight so he could push into Hannibal’s hands.

“And you’re not stopping me.” The older man ran his hands up Will’s back, feeling his spine beneath shirt and skin and muscle, and turned his head, managing to catch Will’s mouth for yet another kiss. The brunette tugged away, playfully, made Hannibal push up against him and roll them back onto their sides to catch him fully again. He’d barely felt Will’s mouth when the man shifted away again, propping himself up and laughing. Hannibal sat up, his hair ruffled from Will’s touches, and chuckled. “Come back here.”

“Catch me,” Will teased, and Hannibal reached for him. Will threw himself over onto his side, laughed as Hannibal missed and fell to his chest on the mattress, and the younger man scrambled up, hopping off the bed triumphantly and placing his hands on his hips.

“William,” Hannibal breathed, attempting to sound formidable but only sounding as if he may laugh within the next fifteen seconds. Will grinned, and just as Hannibal pushed himself up dashed out of the room, leaving Hannibal to gawk for a moment, before he threw himself off the bed and stumbled after him.

He should have found it ridiculous, he knew, to be running around his home like a child, catching glimpses of Will in one room, only to see him grin, laugh, and run again. Should have, yes, but all he could do was smile to the point of his cheeks aching, laugh to the point of breathlessness. Once they had made a full circuit of the house, Hannibal finally chased Will back into the bedroom, the younger man tripping and stumbling, giving Hannibal the chance to wrap his arms around his waist and throw them both onto the bed.

Will shrieked with laughter, flailing, squirming in Hannibal’s grasp as the older man pressed his mouth to the back of his neck, nosing at his hair. “I believe I’ve caught you.”

“I think you did.” Will squirmed more, and Hannibal loosened his grip enough so the younger man could turn over, face him, wrap his arms around him and then rolled them onto Hannibal’s back, hands fisting into his hair again as he kissed him. It was breathy, still playful, Will teasing Hannibal with his tongue, forcing him to chase again. Hannibal grasped at his back, his shirt, holding Will still and exploring his mouth, his breathy half laughs, half sighs turning into small moans as he slid up along his lover’s body, nipping at Hannibal’s lower lip to break the kiss and catch his breath. “Do you wanna get up?”

“Would you like to?” Will made a little face, resting one elbow on the mattress next to Hannibal’s head and staring down at him. His eyes seemed brilliantly blue in that moment, framed with just a hint of grey, and Hannibal wished to bottle that color, drip it as ink over a pen and write the story of this perfect man on paper only he could see.

“Let’s stay in bed,” Will whispered, as Hannibal reached up to cup his cheek, running his thumb along his stubble. “Just for a little while longer.”

“Anything you wish,” Hannibal whispered, smiling, unable to feel the ache in his cheeks or the tightness in his lungs from his laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time a Sunday morning had felt so completely perfect, so surreal. Silently, as Will leaned down and kissed him again, all soft lips and teasing caresses of his tongue, he wished that he could tear the time continuum open and have a never ending lapse of Sundays, where everyday he woke up to Will’s sleeping frame, where he was given those precious few moments to take him, in all his perfection, in.

He groaned, softly, felt Will shifting his weight, his kisses growing serious, finding purpose. But there was still something in his lips, some slight curve, a hidden smile that Hannibal would be able to flush out, given time. And time, for this one day in his life, was something he finally had.


End file.
